


It ain't easy to get to heaven (When you're goin' down)

by 1lostone



Category: The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Sexual Situations, Biting, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Kiss, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, I blame jlm for everything., M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Size Difference, Size Kink, Touch-Starved, general badassery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-09 18:58:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17412395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1lostone/pseuds/1lostone
Summary: They never should have fucked.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jlm121](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlm121/gifts).



> Written as a gift for mah bb, **jlm121** who had a kind of sucky week. Because, nothing says I love you like, here! Take some porn!

They never should have fucked.

* * *

* * *

 

Paul knew that it had only been a few months since Eric had died. He hadn’t seen the two of them together too much, but the handful of times he’d been tasked with keeping tabs on the group in Alexandria, he’d noticed.

Of course he’d noticed.

Eric was slight, quick to smile, or to laugh, or to touch someone. A light brush of his hand on Rick’s shoulder when they’d been discussing the best way to store beets, an excited grab of Michonne’s forearm when they both had talked about Marvel _superheroes_ , for Christ’s sake, even a loving brush of his lips against Aaron’s forehead before Aaron had ventured out with the grumbly one with the crossbow to look for survivors. _Eric_ was the one who showed neediness. At least publicly. He was unashamed in his love for Aaron, and that was . . . well, it was fucking beautiful, not to put too fine of a point on it. Aaron wasn’t as demonstrative, but Paul could tell that there was absolutely not one iota less of devotion there. It didn’t matter who showed it, or who kept it for themselves; it was almost palpable as soon as anyone saw them together.

At the time, Paul had thought that it was better than the gaggingly _obvious_ unresolved sexual tension between Rick and his crossbow-carrying “brother,” Derek. . . Darren. . . no. _Daryl_ .

Still, when Eric had died, and Aaron had been so lost, the man still wasn’t particularly vocal. Paul would see him around Hilltop, quietly keeping to himself, always wincing at even the mention of Alexandria, as though the memory of the man he loved was still too fresh. They all knew why he preferred Hilltop of course, but no one was cruel enough to make him leave. Paul had found formula once, and Aaron, who was clearly at the end of his rope, had thanked him, his eyes almost tearing with gratitude, and truthfully, Paul had made himself scarce since.

Once they’d gotten their well-meaning community to quit with the _painfully_ awkward ‘but you both like men so you should be together!’ vibe, they’d both sort of gone their separate ways. Paul might have had a few impure thoughts in the deepest, darkest inner mind, but it wasn’t like he’d ever act on them.

Oh, they’d talked of course. It was Impossible not to in a community that small. They’d even bonded a little when Maggie, with a gleam in her eye that Paul wasn’t _entirely_ sure he trusted, had asked Paul to show Aaron some basic self-defense.

But that was when it had hit him: Aaron didn’t like to be touched.  Paul usually wore gloves. They were padded, and specially designed for martial arts. He could hit with them, but they were supple enough that he could do fiddly tasks as well. His duster kept his arms covered- that was just basic safety these days- and the pockets had odds and ends weighing them down, but weighing them down so that he was balanced when he fought.

But Aaron? No gloves. No protective gear. Nothing that would provide a physical barrier between him and anyone else- yet there might as well have been a steel wall, thirteen feet thick between them while Paul showed Aaron how to strike, or evade.  

Paul respected Aaron’s wishes, and that had been that. Aaron had learned quickly, but had never returned for more lessons. Shame, really. Paul had enjoyed teaching him.

Now, with the two-year anniversary of them finding Gracie upon them, things hadn’t really changed. The day was bittersweet, to say the least. They all tended to play up the positive- celebrating the day as Gracie’s birthday- and while not ignore the sadness of the anniversary of Eric’s death, as well as making sure to treat Aaron with a little extra kindness that day.

Paul was in the cellar, making sure that he had a few potatoes and carrots  in case he didn’t find food right away when he heard the bell.

The bell was something that both Rick, Maggie, and Ezekiel insisted on as leaders of their respective communities, and the benefits of having an alarm system far outweighed the effort of finding and setting up the fucking thing. (And boy had that sparked town meeting debates far and wide- from ‘ _finally! Something to warn us in an emergency!_ ,’ to ‘ _you want to save us from Walkers by making a lot of noise?!_ ’) Still, the two times they’d had to use it, it had, without a doubt, saved lives.

The rings were steady, solemn. . . the code for a herd approaching within the a few miles, which meant that there was still time to divert them.

Paul knew he had outside duty this week, but it wasn’t until he saw Aaron, running hell bent for leather to catch up with him, that he realized the other man did as well.  

“Where’s Gracie?”

“She’s with Carl, Enid, and Janey. They’ve got it handled.” Aaron checked his ammo and shoved the extra in his pockets for easier access. He seemed to think about it for a second, then checked his knife at his back,and a wicked-looking hook that he’d had Earl modify, then hefted his backpack straps up over his shoulders, looking expectantly at Paul. “You know how the girls love to play together.”

“But--” The fact that it was Gracie’s birthday seemed like a tremendously bad time to take her daddy away from her, even if it was for a simple maneuver they’d practiced hundreds of times. Even if she and Carl and Enid’s kid got along like a house on fire, it still seemed. . . wrong somehow.

Aaron actually stared at him as though Paul were something to be found on the bottom of his shoe. “But what. You think I’m not capable? We’re just on recon. I think it’s Eugene and Gavin that are up for the actual herding.”

Paul’s brows narrowed. “Not at all.” He shrugged. “Come on then. We can take the bike.” He quickly checked out the radio, the rifle,  and grabbed the extra backpack used for their ‘herd drills’. It contained a flare, some waterproof matches, the noisemakers, and a few survival odds ‘n’ ends.

The hand-restored motorcycle had been a gift to Hilltop from a motorcycle-beleaguered Alexandria. It seemed that Daryl, when faced with tons of downtime tended to build the things a little obsessively, and now each community sported their own.  

Paul hopped on, tied his hair up and under his skullcap so it wouldn’t blow in Aaron’s face, while Aaron swung on behind him, and with a with a quick adjustment of weapons, they were off.

“Thought we’d get closer, then decide which protocol would be best,” Paul said, pitching his voice over the smooth rumble of the engine.” He tried not to notice how much he liked the fact that Aaron had initially grabbed at his waist for balance as Paul took off, but it had been a long, _long_ time since anyone other than himself had touched any part of his body. He just hoped he’d been successful at hiding his gasp.

“You’re the expert.”

There wasn’t much that Paul could say to that, so he just tried to concentrate on avoiding the debris in the road and making sure he didn’t spill them on their asses.  What the bike lacked in security it more than made up for in mobility, and Paul would take that any day. The curve on Banner Lane loomed, and downshifted slightly, to compensate for having two men on one bike. He must have turned too sharply, because Aaron’s hands came around his waist again, holding more tightly than when they’d first accelerated.

“Sorry, sorry. You know, I’ve only been on one of these things a handful of times. Takes a bit of a learning curve, doesn’t it? To know where to lean?”

“Sorry- I can. . .”

“Look _out_!”

Paul saw it barely an instant before Aaron shouted.  “Aw, shit! Hold on!”

The sinkhole looked like some giant had scooped out most of the double highway. Easily 200 feet long, it stretched over both sides of the two-lane road, and off into the woods on either side. Later, Paul couldn’t have said how the hell he did it- although there were plenty of Jesus jokes from his asshole friends- but he managed to jerk the bike, causing them to dip dangerously enough that he could almost feel the pavement against his elbows.  They made almost a complete right turn, managing to stop just short of the break in the road, spilling them both from the bike and onto the pavement.

Paul had been thrown clear of the bike, which was a fucking miracle as far as he was concerned. It was a good thing that he’d had to slow down, or he never would have stopped in time. He had managed to land on his side, and had probably three feet of road rash, but nothing was broken. He sat up. Paul saw Aaron lying there, breathing heavily with the bike over his ankle, and scrambled over to him.

“Oh _shit._ Are you okay?”

“I. . . think so?”

Paul was kneeling by Aaron in a moment, his hands lightly brushing over Aaron’s legs, feeling his arms, his skull, desperately looking for anything broken. To his complete shock, Aaron grabbed his wrist, and Paul brought his wide-eyed gaze to meet Aaron’s strikingly dark blue one. He felt like there was a band of fire around his wrist. It had been so long since someone has touched him that he almost couldn't process the feeling. 

“Please. Don’t.”  Aaron’s voice was low, almost angry. Paul realized that he’d been petting him, not realizing that his fingers had stalled in Aaron’s hair, gently cradling his skull instead of checking it for wounds.

He jerked his touch away, cheeks burning. What the hell? Why would he. . .

“I’m fine. It’s not a problem, and don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want you to touch me.”

Paul was mortified, and strangely, horribly hurt. A bit flustered, he stood up, wincing at finding a strained muscle in his back, and quickly turned, staring out at the sinkhole.

It was ridiculous. He had absolutely no reason to feel this way.

Aaron stood up and Paul could see out of the corner of his eye him limping over to the sinkhole and staring off into the distance.  “We should go around. If we’re careful, and go a bit further out, it shouldn’t have sunk too much.”

Paul both wanted to apologize again and never speak to the sanctimonious twerp again.  He took a deep breath. “Must have been the rain. I was out here a few weeks ago, and there wasn’t anything like this.” The sinkhole was fairly deep, with a bit of standing water at the bottom. There was a good bit of erosion on the sides. The asphalt seemed to have completely disintegrated into the mud, leaving the whole area looking incredibly bizarre.

Aaron dabbed at a bit of blood on his eyebrow and limped over to pick up the guns he’d dropped. “Come on. We have to report in.”

“Right.” Trying to push the awkward moment away, Paul gingerly swung onto the bike, noticing that this time Aaron didn’t touch him when he got on.  Mouth tightening in confused anger, He started the bike and carefully rode out.


	2. Chapter 2

They caught sight of the herd fairly quickly after they went around the sinkhole. The ground gently glided from a plateau of sorts to some hilly areas, and at the crest of the hill, they saw the first sign of the herd of walkers.

Paul stopped the bike, and they shifted their weight as it idled, keeping it upright. “Well, fuck.” He’d seen herds before, but this one seemed like a sea of the dead, slowly shuffling towards them.

“Yeah. You’d think that eventually they’d well. . . die out.”

Paul sighed. It was pointless to wish for the impossible They had tons of hundreds of theories on how the walkers were made, on how they’d die out, on _if_ they could die out- and other than a general consensus of the fact that the ones from the beginning were brittle and easier to kill, they’d not come up with anything they could prove. He thought for a bit, “It would be asinine not to use the sinkhole. Enough weight and more of it might give.” He pointed to the left. “We should radio in to the noise crew, but I think we have a real chance if we cut off that smaller herd from the main mass. Then it’s just a matter of setting the radios up, and leading them towards the drop.”

Funnily enough, it had been Carl who came up with the idea of how to kill off a herd; or, at least remove them enough that they wouldn’t be a problem. It didn’t always work, and it played hell with the scenery, but so far they’d been pretty lucky.  The problem was, they couldn’t just lure them into the Chesapeake. As a freshwater source, they’d quickly figured that sticking sometimes thousands of dead bodies into the water and letting the fuckers drown would be fine in the short term, but play hell the next time you wanted a drink of water. Had they been closer to the ocean, maybe it would have worked.  So, Carl had brought the idea before the ruling council: create their own walker kill zone. He marked the area off on the map- using a quarry as the base and extending the area with a few sticks of dynamite that Rosita rigged. Clever use of flooding caused the walkers to slide down, then plunge over the quarry edge into the pit below. Carl had worked with Daryl and Rick to shore up the way out, both blowing the road a few places and shoring up the road in several places with rocks and concrete so that they couldn’t make their way back out.

From there, the weight of incoming walkers usually crushed the skulls of the ones below. Once those got too full, if another herd didn’t happen along, then they set the ones at the bottom on fire.

Paul didn’t see any reason why they couldn’t do what was essentially the same thing with the sinkhole that had opened up.

“Hm.” Aaron seemed preoccupied.

Paul twisted around on the bike and looked back at his passenger. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Aaron met his gaze, and it was jarring enough that Paul felt distinctly uncomfortable. It was the same look as before, when he’d expressed concern about Aaron leaving the safety of Hilltop on today of all days.

“Make the call,” Aaron said shortly, and Paul frowned, turning back around. He didn’t particularly care for the tone, but he also didn’t want to push the issue. “If it’s Gavin and Eugene, you know there’s gonna be a lot of noise.”

“Hm.” Paul knew it was a little immature, but  he took quite a bit of pleasure in offering Aaron the same half-assed response that he gave him.  He dug in his pockets for the radio, and made the call.

“Jesus to Noisemakers. Jesus to Noisemakers.”

“Ten-four to the Messiah.” Eugene’s voice lowered, his accent strengthening, sounding like an old time preacher. “A reading from the book-uh of Paul-uh. And know that I am with you always; yes, to the end of time-uh.” There was a muffled ‘ _ooof_ ’ and a pause.  “ Er. This...is Eugene Porter, come back.”

Paul rolled his eyes. Eugene was definitely still a character. Kind of like a weird mixture of Bill Nye and and a weirdly quirky Adam Savage, but always excited to rig up something new for the Hilltop’s betterment, so it was hard to bitch. Maggie was often found saying that Eugene had grown on her. . . like mold.  

Eugene, of course, had been delighted at the comparison.

“Aaron and I are south of the herd. Looks to be a medium size, although it’s shaped a bit oddly. Looks like a disproportionate figure 8 on its side, with the larger part moving towards Alexandria. Need to relay warning to anyone on Banner Lane, and the Heads. Who can hear me? Over."

“I’m here.” Rick’s low drawl made Paul’s eyebrows raise. He usually wasn’t on comms monitoring.

“Here, Jesus.” Maggie’s twang came over loud and clear on the airwaves.

“Yo, Dude!” Paul heard Aaron’s low snort of amusement at Jerry’s enthusiastic reply.

“There’s a sizable sinkhole at ...ehhh” Paul thought. “Roughly mile marker 25. Believe me you can’t miss it. The herd is mid-sized, but a good third of it is branching off- no doubt following the alarm bell. The ‘smaller’ part of the figure 8, if you will.  Aaron and I plan to trap them in the sinkhole, but the main mass is going towards the quarry.”

Jerry’s whistle came over the airwaves. “Whoa. Just the two of you? That’s against protocol.”

To Paul’s surprise, Aaron grabbed the small handheld.

“We’ve got it handled. Recon team, out. Noisemakers, come back?”

They could hear some feedback and what sounded like a scuffle. Once they got an answer, it was no surprise that it was Gavin this time, instead of Eugene.

“This is Gavin. Come back?”

“Give us fifteen minutes to get into position. We’ve got the bike, so it shouldn’t be much of an issue. Aaron out.”

“Acknowledged.”

Aaron handed the radio back to Paul, who couldn’t help but stare at him, stymied.

“Problem?” Aaron cocked an eyebrow, and Paul was almost horrified by the wholly inappropriate and sudden desire to kiss the slight smirk off of the other man’s face. He shook his head, feeling both confused and angry at himself, then turning back around and walked the bike  a bit away before starting it.

He shouldn’t make noise until Eugene and Gavin started their diversion and most of the herd was headed towards the quarry. The last thing they needed was the _entire_ herd to follow them.  The idea to allow the herd to break off was definitely against protocol. Jerry had been right on that score.  Not the breaking off- they’d found that herds followed a fairly predictable migratory pattern, but the fact that there was only the two of them was a bit off of the norm.  Unless it was an emergency, you were expected to use a party of at least four in any sort of herd situation, and two of those people had to be experienced herd runners at all times.

They’d learned that the hard way.

The two of them waited in a tense silence for the firework, and when they saw it explode in the sky, so did the herd. It was incredible to watch really. The front line of walkers looked up in reaction at the muffled boom of the sound, then turned almost at a right angle and began walking the direction they were supposed to, instead of towards their communities. It  went through the herd like a wave. They heard Eugene’s truck engine start over, and the operatic few notes of Wagner’s _Ride of the Valkyries_ rang out over the quiet day.

Paul snorted. He knew that Eugene would be riding in the back of the truck, blasting the music, hat pushed back on his head as he directed to an invisible orchestra.

“Let’s go,” Aaron’s voice was low, near the back of Paul’s ear. It sent shivers down his spine. Paul imagined he could almost feel the briefest hint of Aaron’s lips as he started the bike with a roar of a well-tuned engine. He’d spent so long successfully ignoring any type of reaction to the man behind him that the realization that he was noticing _everything_ was throwing him off.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

“How are we doing this?” Paul’s voice was short as he spoke. It took a lot more effort than he would have thought to keep his voice even.

“Easy enough. The bike will do most of it. You can drop me off with my portable noisemakers on the left side of Banner- that way the stragglers will be sure not to bypass the sinkhole.  You’ll have the bike, and can quickly come around the other side and either use the bike’s engine to have them turn again, directly towards you, only with the sinkhole in their direct path.”

Paul thought it through. It was infuriating that Aaron was right, that his simple plan was very well thought out. Paul shifted down to gun it to the top of the small hill. He slowed down the bike as they crested the top, but looked back behind him for a quick glance behind him once they were high enough.

It had worked just about how they thought it would.  The main mass of walkers were following Eugene and the _Ride_ , and the hundred or so that had started towards Alexandria when they’d rung the alarm bell had gained an extra few that didn’t know which way to go. It was like ripping a piece of paper, with the large herd having split into two, now moving in different directions.

Predictable migratory patterns indeed.

Paul revved the engine once, waiting for the walkers to get in range before driving off.  He had to get Aaron in place, which was easy enough, and drove to his position, almost exactly where  he had spilled them off the bike. Aaron had a few homemade noise makers. Paul was told that one was known as a tin blower, which admittedly sounded a little odd, but its immediate percussive sound caught the walker’s attention enough to send them shuffling back towards Aaron at the left of the sinkhole, effectively lining most of them up to head directly for the huge gape in the road. The sinkhole crumbled a little where the water had caused it to erode.

Paul had the fairly no-brainer job of standing there and revving his engine, so that they kept coming.  He saw that the string on Aaron’s noisemakers had died, and that he’d tossed them and started with the rocks in the can shakers as he slowly worked his way diagonally towards Paul.

When it happened, it happened so quickly that Paul didn’t have time to stop it.

Aaron, occupied with walking backwards, hands full with his noisemakers, didn’t notice that the earth had eroded on _their_ side of the sinkhole too. He threw his hands out to try to catch himself, but it just crumbled too quickly.  

His quick scream seemed to hang in the air as he disappeared into the sinkhole.

Paul didn’t even think about it. He vaulted off the bike, ignoring its crash as it fell over. He sprinted forward a few steps, throwing himself forward and onto his stomach where Aaron disappeared. Nickname aside, Paul had never really been one for religion.

But when he saw Aaron’s face looking up at him? He thanked every god he could think of.  

They both ignored the dirt as it trickled down into Aaron’s upturned face. He stood, precariously balanced on a piece of the asphalt, both hands dug into the dirt and mud, hanging onto the side of the hole for dear life. The walkers in the hole had already started shuffling towards him. What was a bonus for the walkers was true for Aaron; it was too deep to climb out.

“It’s gonna go!” Aaron yelled at him. “Get back!”

“Fuck that. Grab my hand.” Paul dangled both of his hands over the side, but Aaron was right. He could feel the edge under his gut start to give way as the unstable ground shifted. “Come on, come on. . . _there_!” Aaron’s strong grip entwined with his and Paul yanked, feeling the muscles in his shoulders and upper back straining with the effort. Adrenaline. . . or maybe desperation gave him the extra strength he needed.  The four walkers that had noticed the tasty snack dangling for their dinner had moved close enough that Paul could smell them. Aaron kicked out, trying to dig his feet into the wall of the hole, to climb up.

He had just enough purchase to give them the last bit of oomph they needed. Paul scrambled backwards pulling Aaron up and over. Aaron bicycled his legs, kicking one of the walkers in the face, but making it up out of the sinkhole with a lot of cursing. The knife at the small of Aaron’s back slipped as his belt caught in the dirt, rucking up his shirt.

“Shit! Watch out!!”

Paul barely had time to turn over when he felt it at his foot: a filthy, hungry mouth sliding at the leather of his boot, trying to bite through.  Without thinking about it, he yanked Aaron’s knife out of its sheath, turned, and plunged it into the walker’s head. He felt Aaron behind him, but couldn’t spare the time to look.  Several of them had basically flanked the sinkhole, and were on their way to the two of them.

“Quick! Up. We gotta take them out so we can get to the bike.”

Aaron took his own advice, and Paul scrambled to his feet. They had only seconds to ready themselves. Paul handed Aaron his knife. he had his sword, and a lovingly sharpened WWI Bolo trench knife. It had an eight-inch blade, and brass knuckles that didn't catch on his gloves. It was his favorite weapon for hand-to-hand, but he also had his 20-inch Kukri Machete. Aaron had a hook that he'd customized, and his knife, and without needing to discuss it, the two of them stood back to back, at first. It took a few minutes of slashing and stabbing to clear their way, but when Paul realized that a simple roundhouse would send several of them overbalancing and flying back into the sinkhole, things moved more quickly. Once Aaron saw that, he started using some of what Paul had taught him, and the rest went smoothly as though they coordinated it in advance.

It took less than ten minutes to clear it. It was hard work, but work that they'd had plenty of practice at. They worked seamlessly together. Paul looked around, noticing just then that they had no more walkers in their vicinity. He was out of breath, and it took a second to realize that his hair had come out of the bun, his skullcap long lost either during the ride or from pulling Aaron out of the sinkhole. He pushed it out of the way impatiently, striding over to the bike. 

"I think we're okay. Looks like they all---"

He didn't think much of hearing Aaron step up behind him, until the other man reached out to his shoulder and spun him around. Paul was too stunned to react, but when Aaron stepped right into his space, hand roughly tilting up his chin, Paul couldn't help but tense. 

They stared at each other for what felt like hours.

Years. 

"Oh goddamn it." Aaron's fingers tightened, sliding against the soft hair of Paul's beard, and his mouth crashed down on Paul's. 

The kiss was rough, full of teeth and struggle for control. Paul knew intellectually that he was a few inches shorter than Aaron, but had never noticed it until Aaron tangled the fingers of his other hand in his long hair, pulling slightly and moving his mouth to where he wanted it. Tongues slid forcefully against each other. Paul could hear himself moaning lowly as he gave over to Aaron. 

Immediately, the kiss changed, became slightly less frantic. No less passionate, but it didn't feel like an angry expression of frustration. He could feel the heat from Aaron's chest against his, and slowly slid his arm around Aaron's waist, pulling them that last slight bit together. His heartbeat thundered in his chest, and he could taste Aaron's mouth, something that until just this very second, Paul had tried desperately _not_ to imagine. 

The radio crackled in Paul's backpack not with words but with a signal asking for acknowledgement, in case they were unable to talk. With a gasp, Paul and Aaron sprung apart, staring at each other in wide-eyed shock. Paul watched as Aaron brought his blood and gore stained hands to his own head, curling his fingers through his short hair and pulling, cringing away from Paul like they'd done something horrible. 

"God _damn_ it."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to listen to Ride of the Valkyries, click [ here](https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v%3DV92OBNsQgxU&sa=D&ust=1547767054790000&usg=AFQjCNGgf1nuET1Uv6QtN-bnGjd-N-pJHA)!
> 
> If you'd like to hear the tin noisemaker, click [ here](https://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v%3DXSJQCMIDozE&sa=D&ust=1547769018216000&usg=AFQjCNFzxo5yKf_YOJrzqtWcwi5Xm16HrQ)!
> 
> I'm actually quite enjoying this ship. One more to chapter to go!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> La la la....
> 
> (also you'll notice that 1- I can't make a chapter length consistent to save my life and 2- there are 4 chapters instead of the 3 I thought because this turned into a pornacopia of porn, and I thought it was better to split it up. :D)

It was probably the most awkward moment of Paul’s life. 

The tension built as they stared at each other. Paul stared full-on at Aaron, his lips still tingling from their kiss.  Aaron looked like he was completely disgusted, and while it had definitely been awhile since he’d kissed anyone, Paul was pretty sure that they didn’t swear afterwards. For a first kiss- a kiss that he didn’t even initiate, it definitely appeared that Aaron was full of regrets. 

Aaron turned and walked a few steps away from him, staring down into the pit of walkers.  Paul forced himself to take a deep breath, and twisted his hair back up into a bun before he radioed back. 

“This is Jesus. We’re fine. Walkers are contained. Will have to send out a crew to take them out, but no rush. Careful of the edges of the pit though, the erosion is tricky. Out.” He barely listened to the reply from Hilltop, turning down the radio and turning back towards the bike. He stood it up and winced at how banged up it was. Daryl got _ really  _ cranky when you didn’t take care of his babies. He swung on, then started it. The walkers below increased their activity at the roar of the engine.  

“Paul. . . “  Aaron looked wrecked, and horribly guilty. He clutched his weapons in his hands, as though he needed the anchor. 

The sick feeling from before intensified. “It’s fine. We’ll forget it ever happened.” Paul couldn’t manage a smile, but he forced a ghost of one. It must have been truly pathetic, because Aaron flinched. “Let’s just go back.” 

Aaron nodded, swallowing hard. He got back onto the bike, and Jesus drove off, speaking the mileage and directions into the radio, knowing that the people monitoring comms at all three communities would be noting it, and forming plans to take care of the danger. 

The ride was quiet. Aaron kept a very careful distance between Paul’s body. 

He wasn’t an idiot. He understood what Aaron was struggling with. He didn’t know if Aaron and Eric had been together before the outbreak, or had gotten together shortly after, but it wasn’t like that mattered. They had loved each other, and Eric had died tragically. Maggie had told him once that Eric had turned when Aaron hadn’t been there, and Aaron hadn’t been able to put him down. He’d frozen, and Eric had stumbled off. 

Paul wondered if Aaron ever worried about seeing his dead boyfriend again. Maybe that was why he didn’t like to go out. But that didn’t explain why Aaron had practically thrown himself out of the gates; after all, a herd wasn’t exactly an everyday thing. They moved in predictable ways, yes, but so many were immensely dangerous.  Paul sighed, realizing that he’d driven home blindly, not noticing anything in particular. That was dangerous, and stupid. That was how he’d spilled them in the first place. 

  
  


* * *

 

The Hilltop gates swung open, and Paul drove through. People were grinning at him, and slapping both he and Aaron on the back as he drove slowly towards the motor pool. He stopped, waited until Aaron was got off, then put the kickstand up and quickly walked up the main path to his room. Paul could see that Aaron wanted to talk to him, but he just wasn’t up to it. He made it to the porch, and put down his bag, his overcoat, and took off his boots. One of the women gave him a towel to get most of the mess off his face before he went into the house. 

“Daddy!”  Gracie came running around the side of the porch, holding up her arms.  A rather frazzled-looking Carl jogged after her, with his own Janey balanced on his hip. All three of them looked like they’d gone up against twelve cans of paint, and lost. 

“Sorry, sorry. . .” Carl reached Gracie just as she reached Aaron, scooping her up onto his other hip. He juggled the two girls for a second. Neither of them made it easy on him, screeching with glee and wiggling like landed fish. 

“Daddy paint too!” 

Aaron, Carl, and Paul all winced. The reality of the world they lived in made it imperative that children understood the dangers all around them, but letting the kids think that Daddy and Jesus had been “painting” instead of killing walkers was almost  all the childhood innocence they could afford to give them. 

“Hugs, daddy!” Gracie held out her arms again, imperiously. 

“Just a moment baby. Daddy needs to take a shower.”  

“Here. You can put the clothes here with the towel. I’ll get most of the dreck off the coat, and let you do the rest.” The woman held out the basket, with her eyebrows raised, waiting for Paul to finish stripping. Paul jumped, then found himself blushing at being called out on the fact he’d been basically staring at Aaron’s interaction with his daughter with heart-shaped googly eyes. He stripped off his outer shirt, and tossed it all in the basket, looking at the woman with a sheepish smile.  The woman, busy and intent on her task turned to Aaron and waited for him to take off his outer garments. 

Paul beat a hasty retreat, heading for his room a little more quickly than he usually did.  He couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss. At first, angry, challenging, frustrated. But after? God. How was he supposed to kiss someone like that and never acknowledge it again? 

* * *

 

Maybe he should have expected it. Paul never slept too deeply (none of them did anymore), and the sound of his door hinges squeaking open sent a flood of adrenaline rushing through him. He’d reached for his knife before he saw a streak of moonlight illuminating the outline of Aaron’s face.  His door clicked shut, and Paul sat up in the bed, his heart pounding in his chest. He made himself release the handle, but Aaron still walked towards him with both hands up. 

“You shouldn’t try to be quiet like that. You’re lucky I didn’t shoot first.” 

“Yeah, well, I appreciate it. Is this okay?” 

“Are you referring to you being in the middle of my room in the middle of the night as ‘okay’? Or were you talking about something else?” Paul couldn’t help the sarcasm. He was nonchalantly trying not to appear half-naked all the while feeling blatantly and awkwardly half naked. He hadn’t been this body shy since middle school. 

Aaron sighed. Paul heard the flick of his zippo. He lit a single candle, illuminating his face in angles and shadows before he used it to  light his path to the bedside table and placed it there, carefully. Aaron took a few steps back so that he stood at the foot of the bed. 

The room wasn’t all that large.  After all the kids had arrived to Hilltop, Maggie had insisted that he move into the house. Paul’s room was on the first floor, with him and a few others providing a ‘first line of defense’ in case the house was overrun. His room was essentially converted from a storage area. That meant that other than the window, there weren’t a lot of amenities.

Quickly deciding that there was no way he was gonna have this conversation while snuggled in his bed, Paul also stood up, leaving only a few feet of space between them.  He wished he had a shirt though. He started fiddling with his hair, lifting his arms and plaiting his long strands behind his head. 

“I uh. I owe you an apology.” Aaron cleared his throat. 

“No. You don’t owe me anything, really.” Paul winced inwardly. That sounded a bit rude, so he tried to soften it up. “I mean... I understand. Adrenaline, heat of battle, whatever. Those things happen. It’s no big deal.” He even forced a smile. 

Aaron was quiet for a few moments.  Paul realized that as he had been absently braiding back his hair,  Aaron was staring at him. Paul nervously licked his lips, and watched as Aaron’s gaze shot there with laser focus. 

It was about then that Paul realized that maybe. . . just. . .  _ maybe _ . . . he had misread this whole situation. What if he’d been so busy trying to logic away Aaron’s actions, that he’d completely missed Aaron’s attraction to him? 

Paul waited, letting the tension build. He could have said something, made a joke, taken a step forward, but he wanted Aaron to be the one to initiate this. Maybe it was a bit manipulative, but Paul wasn’t going to do a damn thing unless Aaron started it. 

Minutes took years to pass. 

“Why did you kiss me back?” Aaron blurted the words, then brought his hand up to rub anxiously at the back of his neck. 

Paul let the words bounce around the silent room. He finished braiding his hair and brought it down over his shoulder. Aaron’s gaze followed its movement, and Paul was reminded of Aaron grabbing it earlier with his bloody hand.  He made himself wait before answering, enjoying the tension in the room. “Because I wanted to.” 

Aaron sighed and stepped forward, erasing the space between them.  “Can I kiss you again?” 

Aaron was so close that when he spoke, Paul could feel the whisper of his words against his lips. He raised an eyebrow and waited another beat or two. “Yes.” 

Aaron erased the last bit of space between them, stepping up and into the line of Paul’s body. Paul greedily met his lips, and they kissed. This time the kiss was neither angry nor a fight for dominance. It was just on the other side of gentle, and when Aaron licked into his mouth, it made Paul’s toes curl. He made a low, hungry sound and tilted his head, only then noticing that Aaron’s hands were in his hair, gently finger combing out the loose braid so that the long strands fell around them. 

Paul memorized the inside of Aaron’s mouth with his tongue a little desperately. He didn’t know when Aaron would call a halt to the proceedings, and he wanted to take with him as much as this as he could, for as long as he could. He could feel himself get hard, and tried to shift back a little, not wanting to make things awkward. But, to his absolute shock, Aaron slid his other hand slowly down the musculature of his chest, over his hip, and lightly teased the line of hair under  his belly button with his fingers, dipping just the tips under the waistband. 

Paul went from semi-hard, to fully hard so quickly he got a little dizzy. Aaron yanked lightly on Paul’s hair, and kissed him more deeply, using his body to push Paul back slightly towards the bed. 

Paul broke away from the kiss, breathing heavily. His lips felt almost bruised, but when he saw Aaron’s face in the candlelight, eyes wide and his cheeks flushed, lips completely swollen, Paul leaned back into the kiss. Feeling a little tentative, he rested his hands on Aaron’s hips, unsure of what the other man wanted, or how far he wanted to go.  Aaron made a low sound in his throat, and shifted so that Paul could feel the heat and hardness of him, thick and bulging behind his jeans. 

Aaron pulled away for a second, then whispered in Paul’s ear. “I want to touch you. I want to taste you in my mouth.” Aaron kissed Paul’s earlobe, which he normally didn’t like, but for some reason, the little bite sent shivers up and down his spine. 

“Oh  _ Christ _ .” 

Paul felt Aaron smile a little against his skin. “Is that a yes?” 

“Y-yes.” Paul said shakily. Aaron wasted no time, sliding his fingers further down Paul’s pajamas, wrapping his warm hand around the hot length he found there. Aaron kissed him again, swallowing the moan Paul couldn’t keep quiet. 

It had been  _ so long _ since someone had touched him like this. Aaron started squeezing and jacking him slowly, and Paul felt like his legs were going to give. He started to collapse, but Aaron steered him so that he lay on his back on the bed, legs dangling over the side. Aaron moved so that he could help Paul take off the sleep pants before kneeling on the floor in front of Paul’s spread legs. 

“Still okay?” 

Paul stared blindly at the ceiling, trying to think.  _ Was  _ this okay? Now it seemed so obvious. He’d wanted Aaron for years. Maybe even before Eric died. . . and wasn’t that just his luck? Sudden clarity with his dick waving in the air.  

“Paul?” 

Paul nodded, opening his legs a little wider. Aaron grinned at him, his teeth a bright flash in the candle-lit darkness, and steadied Paul’s dick with his hand. Seeing Aaron bent over him like that made Paul have to close his eyes, so he missed seeing when Aaron went down on him. The feel of Aaron’s mouth was impossible.  

Nothing should feel that good. 

But when Aaron started to suck, Paul tensed, then gasped, shuddering with a sharp cry. Aaron wrapped his hands around the sharply protruding bones of Paul’s hips, and went down on him, moving until his lips were flush against the base of Paul’s cock. He moved up and off of him, and Paul opened his eyes to see Aaron’s red mouth, shiny with spit and precome. He squeezed his eyes shut again, and Aaron laughed low in his chest as he went down once more, beginning to slowly work his lips and throat over the sensitive head of Paul’s cock. 

He could hear himself babbling something that was probably ridiculous. It was too much, too fast, after way too long.

Paul couldn’t stop it. He could feel Aaron’s mouth, the pressure of his throat and his balls tightened and he was coming. Paul tried to twist away, shouting out a garbled warning, but Aaron followed him with his mouth, sucking him through it. 

Paul was absolutely  _ mortified _ .  He heard Aaron swallow, and felt him lick a few times at his cock, as though to get every drop of his come. Paul’s dick was so sensitized that he jerked with each stroke of Aaron’s tongue, and he twisted, curling away from him. Paul threw his forearm over his eyes, feeling like the greenest and most pitiful kid ever. 

“Hey. Hey. . . what’s wrong?”

Paul made a disgusted sound. “You’re kidding, right? I shot off like a kid with his first hard-on.”  He heard Aaron move around to the foot of the bed, and Paul felt a moment of panic, as though Aaron wouldn’t think that he was as pathetic as he was if he could only explain. “I’m so sorry. It’s just. It’s been a long goddamn time since someone than myself has touched me.” 

Aaron was quiet for awhile. Eventually, Paul found the stones to move his arm and shamefully peek at the other man. 

Aaron was waiting patiently for him. “And you think that it’s somehow a  _ bad _ thing that you were so turned on my me giving you head that you came from it?” 

“Uh...” That was so not what he thought Aaron would say. “No. . .?” 

Aaron’s voice turned from amused, to serious. “And do you want me to stop? Because- and this is completely negotiable of course- is that I’d like to spend an hour stretching you open before I fuck you. If you’re only giving me tonight, then I’m going to take every minute of it.” 

Paul’s cock twitched. 

“That would be.. Uh. That would be fine. You’re sure that you don’t want me to--.” Paul gestured towards Aaron’s crotch.

“It will be more than fine. And no. I’m good with this.” Aaron leaned over. “Now turn over.” 

Paul did, and smiled a little as Aaron gathered his hair and pulled it to the side, leaving his back bare. His ass jiggled a little as Aaron stroked over it, touching his skin. He stroked up Paul’s back, and leaned down to kiss the tiny string of words Paul had tattooed there when he was in his 20s.

“If we are true to ourselves, we can not be false to anyone. Macbeth?” 

“Hamlet.” 

“Ah.” Aaron scraped his teeth over the line and Paul gasped, still feeling loose and relaxed from coming so hard. “Here.” Aaron handed him a pillow, and helped Paul arrange himself on it. Paul blushed a little, pressing his face into his own pillow, knowing that everything had to be on display to Aaron’s gaze.   Aaron stoked his fingers over both shoulders, then down over the musculature of his back, and back up, cupping his fingers over his shoulders and kneading. Paul sighed, and shifted, enjoying the touch. Aaron’s hands were incredibly warm against his skin. 

Eventually, Paul noticed that Aaron was strangely quiet, and it made Paul nervous. 

Aaron stood up, causing the bed to jiggle a little. Paul turned his head and watched as Aaron took off his shirts, and unzipped and unsnapped his jeans. The bulge of Aaron’s cock was framed by the  **V** his jeans, and the size of it caused Paul’s cheeks to flush. He didn’t know what look was on his face, but whatever it was caused Aaron’s lips to twitch in something between a smirk and a smile. Paul turned a little, reaching out and pulling Aaron closer to him by the jeans. It only took a slight stretch of his head to rub his cheek against the bulge there, and he couldn’t help but feel a large jump of confidence when he heard Aaron’s throat catch. Despite the humiliation of finishing so quickly, he could tell that Aaron was just as needy as he was. 

“You got hard from sucking me off?” 

Paul looked up, tilting back his head and looking up the line of Aaron’s body. It thrilled him to no end that he actually had to look  _ around _ the bulk of Aaron’s dick. 

“Semi. I got hard when you came down my throat.” Aaron stared down at him, eyes dark in the low light from the candle. 

Paul licked his lips and opened his mouth, pressing a soft, wet kiss through the material of Aaron’s underwear. He could smell the slightly bitter scent of Aaron’s precome, with the musk and clean sweat of his skin. Paul inhaled deeply and mouthed more, testing the heft of Aaron’s cock with his hand. Aaron reached forward and tangled his fingers in his hair, and Paul pulled away a little testing the feeling of Aaron’s grip. Aaron stepped back, obviously worried he’d done something wrong, but Paul tangled his fingers with Aaron's, then slowly wrapped a handful of his hair in their hands, sliding his own out once it was wrapped tightly enough. 

“I haven’t gone down on anyone in awhile. I’m not entirely sure I can. . .”  Paul stretched his mouth over the clothed head of Aaron’s cock and sucked on the material, teasing. He pulled the waistband of Aaron’s underwear out, and watched as his cock fell out of its confinement.  Had anyone asked him, Paul would have sworn that he couldn’t get hard again after coming so hard and so intensely. His cock apparently hadn’t gotten the memo, thickening and filling with heat. 

“You don’t have to. I mean, I understand if it’s a bit... uh. much.” 

Paul had to push himself up on the bed, turning a little so that he could wrap his fist around Aaron’s dick. “Well, if we’re only gonna have one night together, I want to have it all.” 

The sharp tug on his hair caused Paul to look up at Aaron. The expression on his face was unreadable as he reached forward with his other hand, pushing Paul’s mouth open with his thumb, tugging on the short hairs of his beard with his fingers.  He thrust forward slightly so that his cock bumped against Paul’s mouth. Paul did try, but he couldn’t get much more than the head in his mouth. He did the best he could, sucking and licking at the flushed, spongy tip, ignoring the awkward position he was in. Aaron moved his head where he wanted it, keeping his body still as he played with Paul’s mouth. Some of his thrusts missed either accidentally or on purpose leaving a smear of precome on Paul’s beard. 

He tugged one again, and the sharp shock of pain caused Paul to gasp and look up at Aaron again, shocked. He’d never really enjoyed any sort of pain while fucking before. Not that this was pain, exactly, but it was definitely different enough that nerves Paul didn’t even know he had were lighting up like the fucking Fourth of July.  

Aaron moved away from him, dropping his hair and reaching into his jeans. His lovely, thick cock swung heavily between his legs as he turned, and Paul found himself swallowing. 

“You want me to use a condom?” 

Paul shook his head, both impressed and a little surprised Aaron even  _ had _ a condom, let alone that he would use it on him. Most kinds of birth control that weren’t expired were given to the straight couples, in case they didn’t want to have children. 

“Good.”  Aaron moved closer to the bed, smiling tightly, as he showed Paul the jar he’d fished out of his jeans. Paul couldn’t help but remember his nerves, and the reason for those nerves from before. Was he really sure that he wanted to do this? To let Aaron fuck him, knowing that he was just a substitute for his boyfriend? 

Aaron stooped down and pushed Paul onto his back, kissing his mouth and following him with his body so that they were pressed together. Paul’s semi-hard cock was pressed against the heavy heat of Aaron’s balls, with the thick shaft lying against Paul’s hip. They kissed, and kissed, and Paul only pulled away to breathe when he realized that the needy little sound he was hearing was coming from his own throat. Paul shamelessly rubbed his body against every part of Aaron’s that he could, turning over and curving the base of his spine, blinking through the mess of his hair at Aaron’s surprised raise of his eyebrows. 

Aaron unscrewed the lid of the jar he’d pulled from his jeans, and the thick scent of something sweet filled the room. “This is oil based, so it’s gonna be slick. I’ll prep you, and it will take awhile, so don’t rush me, cuz if it’s been as long for you as I think it has, then you’re going to need it.  

Paul counted in his head, pressing his sweaty face back into the pillows, Not saying anything he held up his fingers, inwardly wincing at the fact that it took two hands. He couldn’t see Aaron’s face, but he felt the soft brush of a kiss against one hand, then the other, before Aaron tucked them back down onto the mattress. 

“I’m gonna make this good for you, promise.” 

Paul had no doubt. He spread his legs a little, trying to get completely comfortable. He felt Aaron’s hands on his ass, just rubbing again, squeezing the flesh and spreading him slightly. The cool slippery slide of Aaron’s slicked figer made Paul jump a little, even though he knew it was coming. He felt Aaron’s breath on him as he watched, felt the finger slide slowly inside of him, spreading around the lube and slowly stretching the muscles. Stimulated nerves that he’d forgotten he  _ had _ sent a deep shiver down his spine and Aaron laughed a little, pushing his finger a little deeper. Paul could feel him fucking him slowly, feel the way he’d pull out and slide the fingertip around his rim before sliding back in. Paul licked his suddenly dry mouth, concentrating on the next finger. Two felt slightly uncomfortable at first, then just needed pressure against his inner walls as Aaron patiently stretched him open. Three fingers made him concentrate his breathing, rocking back into the small, circular thrusts. Four made him forget his vow not to make any embarrassing noises, desperately trying to muffle the sounds in his pillow, and not entirely sure he was succeeding. 

Aaron nipped at his ass, breathing heavily and blowing on the wet, stretched hole, but not rimming him. Paul wanted his mouth on his ass, but wasn’t able to ask for it, nerves and need crashing together crazily in his gut. 

When Aaron used his slick hand to reach between Paul’s legs and pull his cock back, Paul had to readjust himself, half-afraid he’d rabbit hump his way to completion against the pillow. After his less than spectacular performance from before, he knew it would be the end of whatever this was. 

“St--stop for a second. Let me. . .” Paul moved towards the headboard, throwing his hair over one sweaty shoulder as he hung on for dear life to the headboard. He pushed the pillows out of his way and spread his legs again. “There. Now get over here and fuck me.” 

Aaron made a sound that in any other circumstance Paul would have laughed at. Any of the suave seduction skills he’d shown before seemed to have completely left him as Aaron moved up behind Paul, grasping his hips with hands that shook slightly.  Paul reached back and spread himself, and Aaron moved so that Paul was straddling his thighs, the heavy weight of Aaron’s cock bumping up against the stretched rim of his ass. 

It was Paul’s turn to tease, sliding his slick hole against Aaron’s cock. Aaron turned slightly and Paul heard the squelch as he used lots of lube on the entirety of his cock. Aaron wiped his hand against the covers and grabbed a fistful of Paul’s hair again, using it to move Paul’s body so that his sweaty back was flush against Aaron’s equally sweaty front. 

“Wait..” Aaron brushed his lips against Paul’s neck, tasting the salt of his skin. Paul felt the bump of Aaron’s knuckles as he held his cock steady, and Paul couldn’t wait any more as he slowly moved, nudging that impossibly hot, thick head into his ass. 

They both groaned. 

It took time, and some cursing, and one more application of lube, but eventually Paul was sitting on Aaron’s cock, one hand on the headboard and one hand tangled with Aaron’s as he wrapped it around Paul’s chest, holding him sightly. Paul shook, overwhelmed, stretched out almost too much as he adjusted to having such a thick shaft spreading him open. 

“You move when you’re ready.” Aaron's low whisper caused even deeper shivers as Paul soaked in the feeling of being held, of a bigger body wrapped around his own. His own cock dripped precome, flushed and red as though he’d not come in ages. 

He swore to god he could feel Aaron’s heartbeat in the thick veins of his cock, buried deep inside of him. 

Paul nodded, and Aaron kissed at his neck again, brushing his lips against the hollow under his ear, licking the side of his neck and rubbing the slight stubble of his jaw against Paul’s smooth skin.  Paul started to rock slowly, then not so slowly. He heard himself gasping Aaron’s name, but at his broken “ _ Please _ .” Aaron’s control seemed to snap. He used Paul’s hair like reins, his teeth scraping painfully against the cord of his neck, his jaw, his shoulder as he fucked him. 

Paul let him do the work, staring blindly at the wall as Aaron’s cock stretched him almost beyond anything he’d ever felt before. 

It was indescribable. 

But, when he broke their grip to reach down and grip his own cock, Aaron grabbed his wrist, letting go of his hair and holding Paul’s hands on the headboard. He moved Paul so that he was more on his knees, giving him the leverage to really thrust into Paul’s twitching, slick hole. 

The tension lasted a beat, then another before Aaron took pity on him, dropping his wrist and jacking him off in time with his own thrusts. 

It didn’t take long. Paul heard himself grunt as he threw his head back, then moan loudly when Aaron bit him on his shoulder, shoving deeply into his ass and tightening his grip on Paul’s cock, so that he came half a heartbeat after Paul. 

Paul was deaf, and blind, and unable to process sounds for what he thought was several minutes.  Slowly he became aware that Aaron was panting behind him, and that his heart was thundering in his ears. 

But no-- _wait_.

“Goddammit, Jesus come  _ on _ !”  Pounding on his door. Not in his ears. 

Oh  _ fuck _ . 

Aaron pulled out of him abruptly, and Paul hissed, wincing at the sudden emptiness. He could feel lube and come leaking out of his ass, and flipped his hair out of his way as he tried to get up from his bed.  His legs were weak, his body still thrumming from his second orgasm of the night as he pulled open the door, stark naked. 

He didn’t have time to be embarrassed at Maggie’s wide stare.  _ Now _ he could hear the deep throbbing  _ bonnnng _ of the alarm bell, of running feet as people readied themselves. 

Maggie blinked, her wide green gaze swinging to Aaron, and back to Paul. They all heard the baby cry, and it startled her out of her shock. “Come on. Looks like some of that megaherd from before. They’re at the gates.” 

“Well, cut the fucking bell!," Aaron snapped, sounding furious.

“I  _ am _ !” Maggie shouted back at Aaron, glaring at him as he pulled up his jeans. As if it heard her, the bell stopped mid-ring. 

“Get dressed. I need you.” Maggie turned from him, already moving down the hall.  Paul started to shut the door, but Aaron’s hand, still slightly slick from lube, stopped him. Aaron bushed by him without saying a word, and ran after Maggie. 

Paul knew that it wasn’t the time, but what was left of his heart crashed into a thousand pieces as he stared at Aaron’s back, as everything he’d gleefully ignored proved itself with absolute, indisputable certainty: 

They never should have fucked.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LA LA LA LA LA....... #sorrynotsorry #trustme #happyendingsabound!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now... the thrilling conclusion.....

* * *

 

Fighting walkers in the dark was something that none of them liked very much. They didn’t have the flood lights anymore- they caused so much power to operate, that the council had decided that that power would be better used elsewhere.

Paul passed Enid in the hallway. She had all the children, and was herding them into the cellar. Reinforcing the cellar was almost the first thing they’d done, and with Eugene installing a separate room for a generator and proper air vents, the cellar was about as close to a fortress of safety as this world could produce. 

He’d tied his hair back, and ignored the way his body felt as he ran, hopping into his boots on the way. He ignored everything- his feelings, his embarrassment at being so fucking stupid and doing exacting what he said he shouldn’t do. . . everything.

They’d tried and practiced this, Maggie drilled them periodically to keep their skills fresh. For all that Paul had realized late that they were under attack, it hadn’t been  _ that _ late. He was a little behind, and Eduardo raised an eyebrow at him silently, and whistled. Kal threw down an extra blade, and Jesus took as second to ready himself.  He could hear Maggie and Aaron’s voices behind him, and Carl shouting something to Siddiq, but for this sort of attack, Paul knew he needed to ready himself. 

He’d grabbed boots, thick, canvas pants that were tight enough to not provide a handhold for any walkers, but still had the double, reinforced backstitch so that he wouldn’t rip the crotch out of the damn things if he had to use his martial arts skills. 

His tshirt had sleeves, but his coat jacket was not the normal duster he usually wore. It was also reinforced, somewhat like a less bulky version of the Kingdom armor, that allowed him to still spin and kick without sacrificing his safety. 

“Okay, man?” 

“Yes.”  He looked up. Maggie still looked like she was hissing something unpleasant at Aaron, but they both had taken Kal’s place on the gate and had their guns ready, homemade silencers screwed on and bucket of extra clips of ammo between them. “Looks like Maggie is ready. Open the gates.” 

Kal sucked in a deep breath, and blew it out with two quick pants, sounding bizarrely like a woman doing Lamaze breathing, before cracking open the gate. 

It opened backwards, giving them cover should they need it, and allowed them to keep the bulk of the group safe while one or two someones slipped out. In this case, it was both Paul, Carl, and Eduardo. 

He heard Maggie and Aaron shooting from above, and their shots were perfectly placed, making a path for him to set himself, and giving Kal enough space to shut the gates behind them. 

The three of them had practiced this every other day for years. 

They fought, spinning, and sling, kicking and slashing, making a space, then a bigger space in the herd. With Maggie and Aaron, and whoever was on the other gate doing the same, eventually the two small groups would meet. The scaffolding above allowed for the shooters to walk around, giving them the absolute best vantage point to keep the ground slashers as safe as throwing themselves into a herd of walkers would do. 

From the other end of the compound Paul heard the horn, and the gunned engine, and of  _ course _ the sound of Johnny Cash as Eugene started the truck. He drove off slowly enough that the walkers would follow the music and the truck to wherever Eugene led them. 

The muffled  _ thwaapp! _ of a bullet hitting the skull of a walker provided a weird accompaniment to Paul’s movement. Slowly the other two gave him the space to do what he did best, moving and whirling, using his sword and smaller knife with devastating effect. 

As Eugene moved further and further away, many of the walkers followed. Not all of them, and Eduardo, Carl, and Paul had practiced that too. The plan called for them to keep the gates of Hilltop at their back as they spread out, killing anything in their way. As plans go, it was a pretty solid one.

Paul welcomed the burn of his muscles as he fought. He could feel everything a little more closely, and knew that he was favoring some of his more abuse muscles, but he didn’t let it slow him down. 

Maybe that was why it was such a shock when the bright _ sharp _ burst of pain ripped through his shoulder, causing him to falter, mid-kick. Paul overbalanced and crumpled to the ground, instinctively curling up into a ball as his shoulder screamed with pain. 

“Paul!!” 

He heard his name but shock had him struggling to get up to his feet. A walker fell on him, and Paul got his knife up just in time, pushing it away. 

“ _ NO _ !” 

Was that Aaron? He couldn’t be sure if that was real, or just his wishful thinking. His heart was beating so loudly in his chest that his head throbbed. He could smell the blood from his shoulder, and pushed up to his knees, looking around in the dark. 

“Get a fucking light down there!” Maggie’s voice sounded far away, but the resulting flood of white killed his night sight, leaving him completely defenseless. 

Paul tried to move backwards, to get his back against the gate, but the walkers, smelling fresh blood went crazy with hunger, turning on him. He could feel their hot breath; could smell the fetid stink of their rotting skin, but barely had the ability to stab the one in front of him in the eye. 

One second, Paul was overwhelmed, desperately fighting with every ounce of survival instinct he had. The next second, Carl was there, calmly fighting like he’d been taught. He killed everything until they had a few seconds to breathe. Carl made sure that Paul was on his feet, and Paul used the scarf he kept for just that reason to quickly wrap his shoulder. He needed Carl to tie it off, but it stopped the bleeding, and let him finish clearing the walls. 

Paul lost track of time. He stopped hearing Maggie, and Aaron, and even Carl and Eduardo. Everything was down to the movement of kick, spin, stab, land, center, repeat. 

Slowly, Paul realized that there was very few walkers left to fight. He stopped and wiped the blood and sweat from his forehead, staring in the direction that Eugene had driven. 

Light had just started to pinken the horizon, sending a riot of colors across the sky as the sun rose. The carnage around them was awesome, and the pains and overworked muscles finally forced the three of them to take a breath, staring out at what they’d accomplished. 

“Holy shit. We did it.” Carl sounded exhausted. He’d long ago stopped wearing the hat his father had given him, and his scarred face had exhausted bruises under his one good eye from their night of carnage and hard work.  Paul found himself smiling slightly, but a wave of weakness caused him to sway where he stood. 

Fighting like that after only an hour of sleep was bad. Fighting like that after only an hour of sleep and a good hour solid of getting drilled in the ass was downright stupid. 

The gates opened, and Paul stumbled towards them, suddenly so exhausted that he couldn’t see straight. 

“Whoa there, man. Let’s get you inside.” Carl pitched his voice upward, towards the scaffolding. “Maggie, we need a medic!” 

“I’m fine. Think it went--”

“Oh no. Oh god, Paul.” Carl’s deep voice calling him “Paul’ was shocking enough that he really looked at the young man, realizing for the first time that Carl had already pulled off the jacket. Paul followed his gaze, expecting to see that blood had soaked through the scarf he’d used to plug the bullet wound.  Not really a big deal. He’d been shot before after all. 

Instead, he saw the almost perfect bite mark, standing out in stark relief against the bright red blood on his skin. 

His heart stopped as he stared down at himself, shocked into complete and utter silence. 

Hands pulled him inside. Paul was vaguely aware of the gate being locked behind him, and of being surrounded by Carl, Eduardo and Maggie. All of their voices blended together and Paul felt very much like he was going to faint in front of all of them. 

He heard the words travelling around the milling people of Hilltop:

“It’s Jesus.”

“--been bit--”

“-Saved us, oh god-”

“Aaron?” Maggie looked over his shoulder, sniffing. They had helped him to a picnic table near the porch. “Aaron, wait.” 

“No!” Paul looked up in time to see Aaron pushing someone to the side.  He stumbled and tripped forward, catching himself with his hands on Paul’s knees as he fell to the ground in front of him. 

His face was a wreck of pain as he looked up. “You. . . You. . .” 

From somewhere, Paul found the strength to smile. He started to reach out, but stopped himself from touching Aaron’s cheek. “Sorry.” He forced a sickly smile, feeling as though the bones in his body were weak. There was something. . . something he. . . 

Aaron rocked up on his knees, cupping Paul’s face with shaking hands. His eyes were over-wide, and he kept blinking back tears. 

“I am really glad you’re okay.”  Paul’s brain wasn’t working. He wasn’t able to focus, to think clearly. He knew there was something he was forgetting, something important, but seeing Aaron so broken in front of him, having him actually  _ touch _ him in front of everyone they knew caused the whatever-it-was in his head to stay there. 

He wasn’t entirely sure that he wasn’t dreaming. 

“Shut up. Shut  _ up _ .” Aaron pushed forward and kissed him in front of god and everyone. Aaron then pushed him away, stumbling again.  Paul heard his half strangled whisper of “I. . .  _ can’t _ . Not again.”  He reached for Aaron, trying to go to the other man. Hands grabbed him, forcing him to sit back down on the picnic bench. 

Of course, that’s when he passed out. 

* * *

 

“You are seriously the fucking stupidest person I’ve ever met in my goddamn fucking life.” 

Paul opened one eye a tiny slit. Carl sounded extremely pissed off. Truth be told, he sounded a little angrier than the situation warranted.  It was a bit confusing, to tell the truth. About all he figured out was that Carl wasn’t talking to  _ him.  _

“I know.” Aaron’s voice was so strangled it was barely recognizable as his own. 

Paul jerked, only to wince as his shoulder told him in no uncertain terms that moving was a really stupid idea. Feeling. . . actually, rather good aside from the wound in his shoulder and a little light headedness, Paul cautiously opened the other eye. He came face to face with the jar of lube Aaron had used last night, sitting neatly on the corner of his table, next to a hair tie, his hairbrush, and the candle from last night. 

He was in his bedroom. Either early morning or very late afternoon light shown halfheartedly through his curtain, a light breeze sending it lightly blowing in over the sill. Aaron and Carl stood outside of his door, leaving it open a crack, which is why he could hear them. 

“You have loved him for. . . for years. Years! And when you have the chance to do something about it, you try to  _ bail _ on him? I don’t fucking believe you.” 

That didn’t make any sense at all. Paul’s eyebrows narrowed in thought. The first part was easy enough to understand. Of  _ course _ Aaron had loved Eric for years. What was not to love? They’d been inseparable. But the second part. . .? What did Carl mean- bail on him? Bail on who? Eric?  For someone with a walker bite, he felt amazingly clear-headed. It was strange. The people they’d had to put down always seemed to toss and turn with fever. But even with all that clear-headedness, Paul was confused. He sat up, causing the bedsprings to squeak. 

He reached over to feel his shoulder, brushing his fingers over the hole where he’d been shot. He could feel the wound under the gauze as his bare feet plopped down onto the floorboards. Paul started to move his fingers to the mark he’d seen, then slapped his hand down over the mark with a gasp, sitting up straight in shock.

He suddenly remembered what his exhausted brain had been trying to tell him. 

Paul hadn't been bitten by a  _ walker. _ Paul had been bitten by  _ Aaron _ while the man had been balls deep in his ass, coming.  The love bite just happened to have been in roughly the same place where he’d been shot, and the blood from that had. . .

Oh  _ Jesus _ . 

The door opened with a creak truly worthy of a horror film, and Aaron stood there, staring. His clothes were tattered and torn, and his eyes bloodshot enough that it looked like he’d not slept in days. 

Paul couldn’t help the flush on his cheeks. He could feel it on his neck and spreading down his chest. His body remembered what Aaron had done to him here, not so long ago, and the rest of him caught up quickly. In seconds his shame and humiliation warred with his body's Pavlovian response to seeing Aaron in his bedroom. 

“Hi,” He tried, flustered. 

“Hi,” Aaron answered in a whisper. 

“Oh for fuck’s sweet  _ sake. _ ” 

Paul turned his shocked gaze to Carl, who stepped forward with both hands palm out, shoving Aaron’s back with all his might. Carl had bulked up from working in the smithy, and wasn’t the skinny, underfed kid from years ago. Aaron  _ flew _ forward into Paul’s arms, and Carl slammed Paul’s door shut, turning the lock with a unmistakable  _ click.  _

“I put up with this shit from my dad and Daryl for  _ five years _ ! **Five**!  I can’t do this again. . . none of us can. Aaron! Paul is absolutely, head over ass in love with you. He’s been for years. Silent pining! Secret stares! Sighs when you bothered to notice him! And Paul! Jesus fucking  _ Christ _ ! Aaron went absolutely insane out there after you passed out. Fighting us, fighting Maggie to get to you, to try to save you. . . somehow. Hand to motherfucking  _ god _ he’s even  _ more _ in love with you than you are with him! And the two of you going at it like drunken, horny lemurs with  **_REALLY_ ** thin walls aren’t exactly hiding anything from anyone! But did you figure it out? Nooooo. No you didn’t. Because you two  **_ARE FUCKING STUPID MORONS WHO DESERVE TO BE LOCKED IN A ROOM TOGETHER UNTIL YOU WORK OUT YOUR SHIT_ ** **!** _ ”  _

You could have heard a pin drop. 

Paul was pretty sure he was blushing so badly that he was having a heart attack. He couldn’t look away from Aaron who stared at him utterly dumbfounded, eyes wide and mouth open slightly. 

From outside the open window came the sound of several people applauding, with a couple of ‘hell yeahs!’ and ‘damn straights’ thrown in for good measure. 

Carl made a disgusted sound and stomped off down the hall, muttering, still swearing under his breath. 

The sounds from outside seemed very loud as Paul and Aaron stared at each other. Aaron managed to shut his mouth, and the red that stained his cheeks rivaled Paul’s own. 

“I’m gonna kill that kid. Slowly.” Aaron sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, shifting so that he could stand up. Paul sat like a statue on the side of his bed, still felt like he’d lost the plot somewhere. 

“For lying?” 

Aaron snorted and looked into Paul’s eyes for a heartbeat or two, reaching down to brush Paul’s hair off of his forehead. “No. Not for lying.” 

“Oh.” 

Aaron’s smile was soft. “Yes. Oh.” 

Paul frowned, looking up at Aaron, still confused. “I don’t understand. You hate me. You couldn’t spend time with me, when I wanted to train you. You can't bear to touch me. You barely let me talk to, or play with Gracie. I mean. . . I tried to stay away, to go by your wishes, but. . .” 

“Oh Paul. No. I. . . felt guilty once I realized how much I wanted you. How perfect we’d be together. I felt like I was betraying Eric, which was  _ really  _ incredibly stupid, because he would have been the first one to shove us into a room together.” 

“The second!!” Carl’s smug voice came from the open window, and Aaron whirled, flipped off his grinning face, and shut the window and curtains, leaving them in a much darker room. 

“But. . .”

Aaron turned and pulled Paul gently to his feet. Aaron was only about a foot or so taller than him, but it felt like nothing. “Touching you... is like coming home. I love to see how you respond to me. How much you want me. I heard you say it was for one night and I lost my mind. I was sick that I'd made you think that was all I wanted. Watching you with my daughter makes my heart hurt with how it should be. Watching how hard you fight to keep us safe humbles me. Knowing that I fucked everything up because I was. . . afraid... breaks my heart.” Aaron sounded gutted, as though he was out of secrets; done with waiting. He dropped his gaze, cheeks still stained with shame. 

“You didn’t fuck up anything, Aaron.” Paul’s whisper made Aaron jerk his gaze to Paul’s, and Paul held it, steadily. His smile was slow, and probably a bit goofy, but Aaron’s whole body relaxed. His arms came gently around Aaron’s waist, and he rested his forehead on the other man’s shoulder, feeling a little overwhelmed. 

“Carl’s right. I do love you. If you. . . uh. If you’re sure, I’d like to try to do this. You and me.”

“And Gracie. And of course I’m sure.”

Paul couldn’t keep the grin from his face if he tried. “And Gracie.” 

Aaron reached down and tilted Paul’s chin up, bending to brush his lips gently against Paul’s. He kissed him once, then twice, then Paul was kissing him back and hole in his shoulder or not, he wasn’t going to stop kissing Aaron for anything. 

It was a long, long time before they separated, both a little out of breath. “You know the only bad thing about all of this?” 

Aaron looked up from kissing the bite mark he’d made on Paul's skin. It didn't surprise either one of him that Aaron had one hand on the small of Paul's back, lightly cupping his ass, or that his other hand was buried in Paul's hair.  “What?” 

“Carl. Little bastard is gonna be lording this over us for years.”

 

 

 

 

 

**THE END!**

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this with no expectations, other than I sort of liked them from the comic. Speaking of the comic, Eduardo and Kal guard the gates there Some Paul/Aaron goodness [here](https://pm1.narvii.com/6025/95deec513c87454e3a3209f93d0216d68bcbcbe5_hq.jpg), although if you like this ship you should realllllly read the comics. :D 
> 
> I started this as a 'feel better' present for my best friend, and finished it liking this ship even more than I had anticipated. So, if you have any other prompt ideas.. leave 'em in the comments or [ Drop Me an Ask](http://1lostone.tumblr.com/ask). I usually stick to either Clementine/Carl or Rickyl, so having this ship is kind of new and shiny. :D 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> TBC!
> 
>  
> 
> (and lol my resolution not to start new fics. I lasted about 11 days. This one is almost done, though. This totally doesn't count, right? Right.)


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